Children of the Great Ones
The Children of the Great Ps is a book written anonymously. It details the Great Ps's offspring, the Ps Ones and describing their nature. Along with key events, items, locations and individuals significant to them. ---- Chapter 1: The Children Te'thoaris, first born of the Great Ps. Merciless and terrible, harsh taskmaster of countless planes of reality. A sight of nightmares and horrors to be told, subverting whole dimensions under his thrall. Psothoth, glowing lord of time and space. Endless and infinite as the twisting tides of fate. Madness waits for all who look too deep. Sarpstho, woe to all who insult the master of change. Bloated mass of discord or cherished child of grace. Worlds torn apart, whole empires reduced to trembling huts, cruel tyrants made into shivering jackals for all is under his whim and wealth and prosperity for all who please him. P'ell, the thousand handed worm. Lavished ruler of the fabled Feasting Halls of Jorkar, dining and eating till the moons gone by. Guests for dinner and guests to be dinner. Psaatloth, the Maw of the Abyss and the Silver Host. A figure of faceless expression, bearing only a gaping mouth of the hungry, all devouring fathomless abyss. For all who are consumed by the emptiness, fading will ensue and then nothingness. A aberrant beast his name is Psomagi. Cloaked in fur of crimson black blood with eyes of rubies. King of unruly beasts and abhorrent life. Huntsman of the Wild Chase and ravager of untold worlds. Yogereth, primal and brutal yet as think and dense as rock. A hulking titan who's hide is impenetrable. Swords bend, shield scatter and the land bends at his power and might. Untold and forever seeking those entangled in inner illusions and dreams of the mind. Beckoned by those calling out, he comes to claim his tribute of flesh, bone and soul. Swirling hair of tendril locks, armor crafted of bleached bone and maw of teeth for Pkrall comes. The enteral burning eye of Psgha, unblinking at all within it's gaze. A fountain of murky ooze springs out beneath it. Men, women and children alike fall under the touch of the Psgha. Their bodies tainted and wither from within, becoming one with him to feed his quenching flame. The Stern and Merciful Judge. Harsh yet fair, mistress Javps’a. Bringer of judgment of the wicked and unworthy. The sin of murdering one of the children of her kin, so grave is this crime. She will bring punishment for all who enable her quarry's escape. The Horror of Erltho, oh Pvu the terrible. Destruction and turmoil incarnate, a horned fiend with the skin as white as snow. Feared and reviled by many, yet loved by few. Psymgdala the Collector. Eight armed lady who's collection knows no bounds, treasures galore and endless gifts evermore. Lost beings of awe from ages long gone by bound in thread, in her grasping hold. Glistering eyes glare at prizes, forever more. The Twin Apostle. Maleik the thirteenth offspring of the Great Ps. Two sides of the same coin, but a pair all the same. One cruel, ever stagnated and with the unstoppable will of zealously and domination. The other fair and begin in form, radiating with feeling of purity and mercy. Different styles yet just as deadly, a mere servant of a higher power who's faith is build on power, control and sacrifice. The God of Fourteen Tails know as Paugnar. A slender and gangly figure that harbors the wisdom of the eons. Humble yet great. Patron of scholars and the intellectual. Igee the Deathly Child, the Plague Bringer and Lord of Decaying Pestilences. A living source of infection incarnated into that of a mere youth, beneath though runs deep decay. Beware his touch for the rotting death will take hold, mourn for the poor soul. Ever nulling power of Papsodhu, brought through by a simple desire. Cold, unending and terrible fate for all who face this horror. Papsodhu the Null Lord, powered by stolen spirit. Only echoes remain, every waiting for blessed release. Which shall not come for some time. Speaking and chattering among themselves the many mouths of Prindus. Bickering, yelping, laughing or complaining it doesn't matter to them. Telling and speaking of events long gone by from seconds to years. There is only one rule for Prindus, the loudest wins always, and guides the rest in action. While the rest are quelled in silence.... only for mere seconds. Till the next argument and all the voices raise their opinions, high and loud as can be. The Eater of Stars. He has many names, but this is a one best suits Psyphyr. He who feeds on the light of stars, consumes the light and power of whole suns. Beware his ghostly glow and if not be lured into his wide maw. The Fisher is every patient for he know his prey will come to his door. Queen of the Wicked Crafts, Pstama that be her. Crone of power, bended tightly with foul sorcery and darkest arts of the night. Steeped in blasphemous rites of old, toying away in brewing and spellbinding. Reap thy rewards, servants of the queen. Crones, heretics and all those who seek the hidden ways. Gather around her dark majesty for she will guide the worthy in their ascendant to her side. Psggek the Four Armed Crustacean, blunt an dull as ever. Spewing all dissolving acid at pests below him in his mere sight. Crushing foes with mighty claws and steeping toes. There lies a place called Yarheze, a bountiful world of millions of souls. Grand works soar high, built of marble stone, dark mortar and slabs of chiseled stone. House to the Kindly God, Poui. He the one who showers kindness on his followers, with joy and eternal smiles. Bastion of life, giving life itself. The Ever-blooming Mother who hands sprout whole forests from barren stone and sand. Seeing and sowing each seed into the earth's warm embrace. For the gardens of Psulyvahn will bloom and grow, her sweet nectar enticing all manner of prey to fair gardens of death and woe. Psugdorym, standing high as a mountain of earth. A mass of horrid tubers, fungus, and festering moss, withering host of parasites and fungi saturate his bulk. Bellowing out clouds of tainted spores and other foul things to incorporate all of reality into his bloated form. The Winged Terror of a Thousand Worlds, if know the name of Psazebul. Then know his blood drenched past of terrible acts of destruction. Razor jagged wings of ragged feathers block out the sun's rays, mighty gusts of winds blow whole cites apart. The Winged Terror soars once again. Lythpa, bane of young lovers. A creature driven by hedonism and a lust for the energy from her victims. Her eyes delve deep into the minds bring lost emotions, long buried. Her touch releasing the most nostalgic feeling every to behold. But do not give in to temptation and her beauty for it matched along with her cruelty and sadistic pleasure in the thrill of the kill. Merrymaking and simple pleasures is the trade of Psangu, brother and light to his wicked other half. A small man, portly in shape. Sprouting a lovely pair of ram horns from his forehead. Master of brewing spirits and wines of all kinds, sweet and sour till the end of time. For he is the Lord of Scarlet Palace, hidden among the starlight sky. Only the chosen may enter into this paradise in the sky. Disgusted and scornful of the primitive exchange of words of mortals, Psqaie instead prefers the language of the mind instead of the lips. Once long ago, but forgotten by most on the world of Draendio. There once stood several great kingdoms and domains. Governed by mighty and proud rulers, yet not even their wisdom and power could stop the horrors that came to pass. All brought on by the scheming machinations of Psdia. Pshandra, the Lady of Reflection. The insect queen ruling a vast domain of constant flux and shifting structures, her home and fortress. She spies within her realm through more than light reflected and refracted in the fluctuating facets of the shining surfaces, images from distant worlds and lands far beyond brought into her sight of view. The lower planes of reality are home to one being, called Psudlex. A titanic aberration, who resides in blackened realms content with raising his legions of doom. Mindless swarms an hives full of silken cocoons, ready to burst with new brood to pillage and plunder. Countless are the children of Piaogga. The Mother to Many Broods, the Grey Matron of Twilight Woods. Self proclaimed Goddess of fertility, growth and monstrous births. Secret and obscure circles gather within twisting groves and forest, blood, sacrifice and passion come together. At the witching hour does young mother blessed by her gift, seed planted inside. Within the surrogate wound of mother's embrace does young spawn of Piaogga gestate within. For she brings love and child to barren ones. Category:Book